Depception and Perfection
by SecretsOfMischief
Summary: A WIP of a French girl with promiscuous intentions, a new school at her feet, a cousin that needs to be taken down a notch, and a history so unbelieveable it could not possibly be a lie- not that they'll ever know if Elodie Chastain can help it.


A WIP of a French girl with promiscuous intentions, a new school at her feet, a cousin that needs to be taken down a notch, and a history so unbelieveable it could not possibly be a lie- not that they'll ever know if Elodie Chastain can help it.

September 1st, 1977

A relatively mild day in London, no rain or humidity to speak of, a perfectly ordinary fall day.

Or rather, ordinary based on any muggle's standards.

No September 1st in the United Kingdoms was every considered ordinary for those in the underground community, that of witches, wizards, and their school aged children.

For one particular witch, standing alone, the day was especially different. This would be her first year not going to her home school in France, but her last year of schooling altogether. At 17 years of age, the slender young woman had apparated on her own, bidding her mother adieu just moments before. Now, standing with her elaborately garnished trunk, she wished only for people to remove themselves from her path so she could board the scarlet train and wait for the journey to end in peace.

The terminal was busy, but the long-legged Frenchwoman was no stranger to getting what she wanted. A wink here, a bit of eyelash-batting there, and she was where she wanted to be. Of course, the eyes she had caught on the way continued to follow her, and she reveled in the attention. The undeniable beauty felt their admiration and used it as an energy boost, sauntering down the train's corridor with an extra kick in her step. The train was not to leave for another 5 minutes, and the compartments the latecomers might have had were being quickly snatched up by the other students who had enough sense to arrive on time. This was Élodie's final thought as she closed her private compartments door, levitating her trunk onto the self above her.

Inspecting the floor, the seats, even the handles of the doors, she could not help the frown that marred her usually stunning features. Beauxbatons had clearly been held to a higher standard. Instead of 25-year-old carpet lining the floor, spattered with discolored stains that accompanied those on the fabric covered bench seats, she had enjoyed plush blue carpets beneath her feet as she sat upon seats of soft leather for the past six years of her schooling. Now, this compartment would have to suffice for just a few trips more.

Hearing the final call of the conductor out the window a few cars up, the heir to the Chastain estate retrieved her magazines, smoothed her long skirt beneath her, and took a seat.

She was, however, unable to delve deep into her reading material. A few pages in, she became distracted by the sound of rowdy boys roaming the corridor. The train had set off a few minutes before, and they were sure to be looking for seats. Silly Englishmen, if they thought she was going to disrupt her peace to indulge them, they would need something truly worthwhile to recommend themselves.

Their loud laughter grew closer, and Élodie prepared to analyze what was coming. She could pick out two, maybe three, voices in the ruckus, and was nearly able to see more than their legs. She was pleased to find that they would be facing each other as they walked by, and she would have a proper chance to see all of them, and they her.

The leader of the group was gesturing wildly, his long limbs sometimes hitting the walls of the hall. He wasn't terribly thin; his muscle had some definition, but it was all very lean. For a fit Englishman, he would be either a football goalie player from the muggle world, or a chaser—maybe even a seeker?—on a Quidditch team at this Hogwarts school. He was, overall, rather attractive with his enthusiasm for whatever he was going on about, windblown hair, and endearing glasses that would have looked much less handsome on any face but his. Even better, the shining gold badge on his chest gave the impression he was a man with power, and it was only good politics to keep someone like that handy.

The second of the group was smiling good-naturedly, more than amused by the antics of his friend. Something about the way he smiled, however, looked like he knew something that the rest of the would could never guess about the man walking a few feet ahead. His sandy brown hair, with that gentle wave at the end that begged his lady callers to run their fingers through it, suited his slightly pink skin. It was the faded scar on his face, however, that made her most curious. What kind of man could look so gentle but have such a mark of pain so openly displayed? It made him no less handsome, and may have increased Élodie's interest in him. He would be a good person to have on her arm, to show off their nicely matched shades of skin and well-paired heights.

Then came the third, the most handsome of them all. His height somewhere between the first two of the group, he was built broader. He was by no means plump; his shoulders were simply stronger though his waist remained enticingly tight. His "Led Zeppelin" muscle shirt displayed this beneath his patch-covered leather jacket. Élodie could imagine how proud he would look, sitting atop a muggle motorbike, as opposed to the open-mouthed laugh that sounded through the car.

Then he looked her way, their eyes catching. Hers gave him a final up and down, his widened at the sight of a new female specimen. The deal was sealed when, pulling her eyes back up to meet his, the blonde beauty winked, then went back to her magazine as if he was nothing special enough to hold her attention. Over time, the young Chastain had come to understand that males liked to be the center of their ladies world, and given time, would to anything to assure this.

Outside the compartment, the most handsome of the group, by the name of Sirius, continued walking and watching the girl. Why did he not know her? He should, by now, have known that face. In his distraction, he accidentally walked into the boy in front of him, Remus, who in turn ran into the bespectacled James at the front.

"Oi! Pads, I thought we talked about this: Moony doesn't feel that way about you," James called back to his companion, righting his trunk again.

"Shut it, Prongs!" He replied, rolling his eyes. Many a girl in whom Sirius had lost interest started the rumor about why he never stuck with any one girl; supposedly, he was secretly in love with one of his mates. James had always been openly mad for Lily Evans, and Peter Pettigrew was actually quite happy in his relationship with a pretty 6th year Hufflepuff, despite his shyness. This left only Remus Lupin, the kindest and most gentle of the self-dubbed Marauders. The inside joke did nothing but fuel the rumors, but the entirety of Hogwarts knew Sirius enjoyed being the center of attention for whatever reason.

"I've just realized I need to meet someone," Sirius continued, looking back distractedly, and began stepping backwards. "I'll meet you lot in the compartment—here, take my trunk would you? Thanks— and tell Pete I want to hear about his summer when I get there, bloke hardly writes." And quick as a snitch, he slipped into the compartment of his mystery girl.

The two left outside were not clueless as to his intentions. In their peripheral vision, they had seen a girl occupying the compartment Sirius had moved back towards, but had no inkling as to why he had chosen her. For a moment, the two simply stood in place, silently conversing with their eyes. Go to their own compartment, the same they used every train ride, where Peter would be waiting, or eavesdrop on Sirius, a skill they had developed effectively over their 7 years of friendship?

"5 sickles he spouts a Shakespeare poem," James wagered, the first to break the silence. Remus immediately scoffed.

"Not a chance, that was a phase, and everyone knows his tricks by now. No, he'll have found some muggle line over the summer," the second replied. While Sirius lived with James, as he had since the Christmas holiday of their sixth year, Remus was more adept in reading his friends and predicting what would come next. They were often spontaneous and erratic, but he was the best man to guess of everyone who knew them.

"You're on."

Quietly shifting themselves (and their terribly massive trunks) towards the half open door for better sound quality, they caught Sirius mid-sentence, comfortably situated in his element.

"...so, as a gentleman, it is my duty to ask: did it hurt?"

 _"Pardon?"_

Sirius could not help but grin at the blonde before him, as James and Remus could tell from their hidden positions. Her delicate eyebrow raised above where the proud Gryffindor could see, beneath her heavy bangs. It was only polite for him to ignore the way she sounded as if she had a frog in her throat. It was, in fact, very easy to devote his attention to his game of Cat and Mouse.

"Why, when you fell from heaven, of course! A beauty as radiant as you could be nothing but angelic."

With a disappointed groan from James and a triumphant smile from Remus, the outcome was just as much in the latter's favor as it always was. The beat of silence from the two teenage occupants of the compartment was lost with the exchange of 5 small, slightly dirtied coins from one set of hands to another. Had the transaction not been made sooner, they might have missed the first proper sentence the mystery girl spoke.

 _"Est-ce que vous avez si désespéré toujours?"_

For a moment, a single golden moment in time, every Marauder on the train was stunned into silence (though Peter's, as they would later learn, was not a happy surprise in the least). Sirius and James, the brothers in all but blood, were at an absolute loss, but the most studious of the boys was simply bewildered.

"Erm... what was that, love?" Sirius asked hesitantly, his expression falling from a self-satisfied smirk (however attractive it was) to a less confident half-smile.

 _"Are you always this desperate?"_ she repeated in her native tongue. Élodie had thought she'd heard every pathetic pick-up line from the last century, but even the English could find ways to surprise her. Cute, ridiculous, and totally typical.

Finally, Remus could no longer sit in silence. Pushing both his and Sirius' trunks against the wall of the corridor, the 17 year old maneuvered around his tall friend and into the compartment before he could be stopped.

" _He thinks he is being charming_ ," he informed the alluring fellow French-speaker, surprising both of the boys he had shared a dorm with for the previous six years. They knew he was accomplished in his Ancient Runes class, but when had he become fluent in French?

Her eyes quickly shifted to his form in the dooway, towering over her where she sat. Yes, she had good reason to be curious about this one, Élodie thought privately. He had more to offer than she had initially expected, and she would be sure to not underestimate him a second time.

" _What do we have here? A regular_ Nigel _has some culture?_ " the teenaged enchantress teased. In truth, she had expected one, maybe two in her year with a basic knowledge of the Language of Love, or rather, the Language of Lust as she liked to call it. She knew the reputation her people created, and the general company she kept seemed to endorse this vision.

" _A Remus, actually_ ," he responded, catching her drift. " _Remus Lupin, Gryffindor, Year Seven_." His introduction was calm and nonchalant, almost as if he wanted to shrug off his own importance. Clearly, he had spent some time in Paris, perhaps for a holiday.

" _Bonjour, Remus_ ," she greeted, even deigning to stand. Holding her hand out for him, palm to the ground and fingers elegantly relaxed, she felt it was only polite to pay him a similar courtesy. " _Élodie Chastain, Year Seven. I have transferred from Beauxbatons_."

"Is that her name? Élodie?" Sirius questioned, getting to his feet. He was nothing short of baffled by the situation at hand. Here was Remus, his werewolf of a best friend, speaking French and kissing the hand of the mystery girl that he found! Why was he not the casanova here?

In all honesty, Remus had forgotten there was a third presence in the space until he had made himself known again. As it often did, his natural curiosity had gotten the best of him, all of his efforts going toward unraveling the puzzling appearance of the French girl. And, as Sirius often did when he felt ignored, he lost all tact.

"Yes, Sirius," he sighed, giving his companion a withering look.

Before he could add a sarcastic comment, Élodie interrupted him.

" _Serious? I don't understand_ ," her pouting lips mumbled. Her brows furrowed, losing the train of conversation. It would just not do. Her body was suddenly facing the handsome, leather-clad man, the dramatic spin leaving her hair to settle around her as she spoke again. " _Who are you, exactly?_ "

For the first few seconds, the arrogant young man looked panicked, unsure of what to do in such a situation. He had learned some Latin in his childhood, as many purebloods did, but it did him little good out of class and in practice. He then looked to Remus, his unofficially appointed translator, for help.

"Introduce yourself," he explained, smiling in satisfaction (there was such a rush in knowing something useful for the studious wizard; it was no wonder he fell somewhere in the top five of their year in every class he took).

And finally, there was something Sirius could contribute! If there was anything he could do well, it was talking about himself with attractive girls.

"Of course! How rude of me," he apologized, smoothly sinking back into his naturally cocky persona. "Sirius Orion Black, at your service, Miss Élodie. You know, there are constellations in my name, our love must be written in the stars."

Outside the doors of the compartment, James Potter stood alone, rolling his eyes and chuckling. For so long, Sirius had moaned and groaned about how stupid his family tradition was. His arrogance was frequently used in a playful way, and it was good to see him fitting his name into something that would make someone happy, however terrible and cheesy the line was.

At the same time, with the two other boys in the vicinity, a soft tittering became more pronounced giggles, truly amused by this revelation. It, of course, came from Élodie, who was not able to gain control of herself without covering her mouth to muffle her mirth.

" _Then it is true!_ " She exclaimed between soft snickers. " _He really is a dog, in name and nature!_ " In her jubilance, the newest addition to the seventh years cupped Sirius' face in delicate hands, pecking each cheek with the corner of her lips. The boy in question hadn't understood a word she said, but wouldn't complain about the attention. Just what he had wanted without much of the fuss.

" _Is the other boy another one of your pets?_ " She asked, the corners of her lips remaining upturned. " _The one who eavesdropped with you?"_ Remus's surprise was clear in his expression. Evidently, he, too, had underestimated her. His astonishment overpowered his discontent with her pet reference. These were his mates, and they'd stuck by him through it all, and then some. She didn't know that he could just as easily be the pet that belonged in a cage. She couldn't possibly know all the facts. Instead, she applied her logic and realized quicker than those less attuned to the male specimen: something was missing, and it was her eye candy.

 _"It is very rude to leave him waiting, don't you think? We should invite him in, become better friends!"_ Élodie casually suggested. This lax mood tensed when she brought out her wand, unsure of what might happen next. A swish of the 10 3/4 inch wand later, a pair of glasses flew to her hand, a much larger body following their path.

" _These are yours, oui?_ " She suggested sweetly, offering the spectacles to the tall man with the blurred vision. Remus chuckled in the background, watching the scene play out. Both dark-haired boys were all about cool, collected confidence; to see them so out of their element was far more entertaining than he would have thought.

"Er... _Oui_ , thanks—oh." Now, James, too, could really see the girl who summoned him. 'If I wasn't so wand over arse for my Lily,' James thought, looking her up and down. A slender form, slightly curled blonde hair with the heavy fringe to frame her pale features, pouting lips... She was a dream, and she knew it all too well.

While James analyzed her every feature, Élodie the same. Silently, Sirius could feel a bubbling jealousy in the pit of his stomach. Sure, she had given him the same up and down when he'd first come to her, but he was the first there, he should have gotten to keep her for himself. It wouldn't have been that hard to mime 'snogging', get down to it, and meet his friends later!

" _Are you a_ Chaser _or a_ Seeker?"

The same words that shook Sirius from his reverie did the same for James, his eyes lighting up. Quidditch was a language he would always understand!

"Chaser! Chaser and Captain for Gryffindor, actually! So you know Quiddtich? That's great! Do you fly? Do you play?" He inquired as quickly as the words would come out his mouth, continuing to babble on about everything related.

" _I like getting to know the build of these positions. It is a good pastime, makes very... Close relationships._ " Glancing at Remus, Élodie winked, knowing only he would understand her meaning, both literally and intimately.

"...and of course, I've forgotten to put my badge on for the team—Remus! The meeting! Shit, we've got to go!" James exclaimed, shoving his captain's badge back into his pocket. "We're going to be late, and Lily's going to kill me, and we'll never get married and— come on, Moony!"

With a BANG! James threw open the compartment doors and raced out, only to dart back in the opposite direction to retrieve his trunk.

"Nice to meet you!" He shouted on his way back down the hall, nearly running down a few third years on his way to the prefects meeting... That he was meant to be running.

" _And who was that?_ " Élodie wondered aloud, a bemused smile playing at her lips. The boy was apparently infatuated with some Lily girl, and intensely obsessed with Quidditch, but she had received no name from the encounter.

" _James Potter, Head Boy and Lovesick Loon_ ," Remus explained, the flush stemming from her previous comment fading from his cheeks. Turning to Sirius, he continued in English. "But he is right, we really should go. Lily's Head Girl, and I shudder to think of how pissed she'll be if we're too late. Can you take my trunk? I need to make sure James doesn't... Act too James-like."

"Yeah, yeah," Sirius waved him off, "go on, I'll meet Pete and explain my—er, our distraction." In all honesty, Sirius' spirits soared with the thought of proper alone time with this Élodie Chastain. He was starting to worry that Remus was getting the upper hand with his mysterious French girl.

Oh yes, she would be his if it killed... Well, not him. He was too beautiful to die, the world would sink into such a depression without him, surely. Maybe Snape. Yes, she would be his if it killed Snape.

Remus, ever the observant one, saw the spark in his canine friend's eyes as he glanced over to Élodie. She was not as innocent or angelic as her appearance was perceived, but a non-French speaker wouldn't know that. In any case, Sirius needed to take care of their plans for the feast with Peter while the other two Marauders were in meetings and patrols.

Casual as could be, Remus shrugged, his Mischievous Marauder side coming into play. His pureblooded friends were at such a disadvantage, having no understanding of muggle psychology, the most useful of which being 'revese psychology' when it came to them.

"Alright. Be sure to take care of the plans for the feast while we're off. Of course, I'm sure Peter could do it himself; last time wasn't too bad."

Sirius paled at the memory. James and Sirius had gotten stuck in detention, and Remus was on duty in the corridors, leaving Peter to carry out the prank for the following morning. The cream pies that were meant to drop onto the entire Slytherin table had been off by about a foot, only just splashing one-half of the table. The extra foot of pie landed on the floor, upon which McGonagall slipped and fell on her back.

This was their last first prank event of the year, and it had to be nothing short of perfect.

"No, no, I'll be there in a minute," Sirius replied with faux confidence, a slight edge to his voice. Alone time with Élodie would have to wait. After all, they had an entire year to get there.

Remus only barely hid his smirk.

Turning to the girl in question, Sirius smiled apologetically.

"Sorry love, I've got some thing to take care of right now. I'm sure we'll meet again soon. For now, I'll bid you _adieu_ — hey! Look at that, I do know French!"

Élodie only chuckled, shaking her head. He was a vain, jealous, handsome young man: just her type of target. She estimated he would be wrapped around her little finger completely in no more than 6 weeks, for sure. He was already so predictable.

" _Au revoir, petit chien noir_ ," she acknowledged warmly, batting her black lashes up at him, putting every bit of gravity into her eyes. He would be back, if not on the train, then at her side, carrying her books at school.

"Er... Y-yeah, oh revwah... I'll see you later, Moony," Sirius muttered distractedly, backing out of the compartment and taking up his and Remus' trunks, beginning his trudge to the Marauder's usual train quarters.

" _So_ ," Remus began, catching Élodie's attention again, " _you didn't tell them you speak English._ " The question behind the statement was clear: why? What purpose could she have in confusing his friends? Was she just cruel?

" _You wanted me to ruin the surprise? Where is your sense of fun, silly Lupin? They will know soon, and I am sure I will be seeing you all much more and very soon. Oui?"_ She responded coyly, moving back towards her seat.

"Yes, I suppose so," he muttered to himself, realizing just how long they'd be in the castle together. Her trick would be up by the first day of term, though he did wonder how she sounded when speaking his native tongue herself.

" _Then there has been no harm done!_ " Élodie replied, returning to her original seat. " _You should go to your meeting, and catch up with James. You and I will see each other again, talk more about your silly English habits_ ," she joked, smiling genuinely. She was truly amused by these newfound classmates, and she could see great fun in their future together, however short it might be. Enough could happen in a year, however, and she was looking forward to what those events might be.

Remus nodded, a hint of a smile in the corners of his lips and the creases of his eyes. She was right, of course. He had already lingered in the compartment for too long.

" _Until next time, mademoiselle._ "

* * *

The scene poor Remus walked into upon reaching the Heads' compartment was quite possibly the most tense situation any of the prefects had ever been subjected to in their years, however many or few they'd had.

Standing in the back of the space, arms crossed and hip jutting out, Lily Evans wore an expression of absolute frustration. Her green eyes grew brighter and more narrow, like a volcano bubbling with lava, seconds away from eruption. The words she was hearing were nothing but rubbish concocted in the mind of James Potter, resident idiot.

James, on the other hand, stood by the sliding doors that provided entrance from the long train corridor. He seemed to be defending himself, using his most earnest, genuine face. Remus had seen him try to calm her countless times, though he was usually the cause of her aggravation. Over the last year, they'd become slightly more civil, but his appointment to the Head Boy position surely put him behind again. At least, that was what Remus assumed they were arguing about; perhaps she didn't believe him.

His presence in the compartment was not noticed until he had to swiftly duck under James' arm, as his wild gesturing got out of hand again. Like a switch had been flipped, Lily's anger suddenly turned on him.

"Remus Lupin, where have you been?" She questioned, her articulation too perfect. Her eyes were almost more fierce when turned on the werewolf than they had been on James, but she had always liked him better as a study partner and friend. Her frown deepened in an instant, waving off her own question.

"Nevermind, I suppose you have some ridiculous story about a French girl too, don't you? Covering Potter's arse as always, you really need to—"

"What? You mean Élodie? I've just left her, wanted to warn you about James," Remus interrupted her, no hint of dishonesty in his words. Lily's anger melted into disbelief in seconds, and her silence spoke volumes. It was a few tense seconds before she could bring herself to speak again.

"You mean... He's not just being a manipulative little prat?" She questioned. The fierceness of her expression relaxed, realizing that, for once in all the time she'd known him, James Potter had been totally genuine without ulterior motives. She would not have trusted her fellow head alone, requiring confirmation from the more trustworthy Remus.

"Er... No, not today," Remus replied, receiving a mildly offended look from his dorm mate of six years.

Now she was embarrassed. She'd been so loud and angry over what was really nothing. She only just stopped herself from chewing on her lower lip. It was a nasty habit, and she'd been trying to break it all summer. She would not ruin her progress for James bloody Potter and his French infatuation.

Lily finally sighed in defeat. She'd been wrong this time. But they'd still been late!

"Fine. Now close the door and sit down, we've got work to do."


End file.
